Puzzle Pieces
by Isabella India
Summary: Had Sherlock met his match in his games of deduction? Certainly not, but he had definatly met someone interesting.
1. Chapter 1

**I loved writing this first chapter! I hope you like it. 9Oh and by the way I am saying that Sherlock is 26.)**

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Olivia stepped outside her Baker Street apartment and tried calling a taxi like her father showed her when she was 11, although 13 years on and she was still having trouble. As she shrugged on a cream trench coat with black piping, she noticed a disturbance on the other side of the road. She narrowed her eyes and focused on the gathered crowd. As a journalist, she felt the need to go and investigate. Who knew, this could be her biggest story yet! She crossed the road in a hasty matter and started pushing through the dense crowd.

Microphones and recording devices where all pointed up to the mouth of a very lean and very handsome looking man. His face was set in stone as different reporters asked all their questions. When he answered he spoke with a low voice that drawled as if he was giving a lecture. His icy blue eyes popped out against his dark hair that was swept in no particular style.

She raised an eyebrow and let her mind think as the reporters started walking away from the scene. She was so absorbed in trying to work out what he was and who he was that she did not notice that she stood in front of him alone and looking straight at him, lost in thought.

Olivia clicked one wedge heel on the pavement and sighed heavily.

''Who are you?'' She asked impatiently.

The man raised one eyebrow and another shorter man beside him looked over at him.

Olivia bit her lip. ''Well you aren't with the police, you aren't sympathetic enough and I would say investigator because that would mean working with the police closely which I do not see you doing regularly.'' She stopped and laughed hastily realising her ruseness. Her mother would be extremely embarassed. She mumbled a quick sorry and turned on her heel to walk back to the other side of the road.

''Consulting detective.'' A low voice said behind her.

She turned with eyebrows raised.

''How was your flight?'' The low voice asked.

''How did you-'' Olivia started.

''Your trench coat. It's not old, but fairly crumpled. From the creasing it's obvious that you have been sitting someplace for a while. There is stretching in the arms of the jacket from reaching over head lockers of a plane, understandably considering your height. Also you did not know who I was so you must not have been in London long. I wouldn't worry about your father either.''

Olivia opened her mouth to once again ask how he knew she was worrying about her father but he interrupted.

''You seemed rather defensive while talking about police men and especially when telling me I was not sympathetic enough you were most likely comparing me to your father.''

Olivia was speechless and took a few moments to process all that had been said.

Then she turned to the man next to him.

''What's it like living with him?'' She said sharply.

The shorter man looked taken aback.

''How did you know that we lived together?'' He asked.

Olivia smiled.

She herself knew a few tricks. Having a gifted Mother and a policeman father did have its perks.

She continued looking at the shorter man of the two.

''You are defiantly not physically close enough to be lovers, nor far apart enough to be enemies, although I do have a hard time believing you can make friends with that man easily, so I am guessing you are partners and, or flatmates. It's also obvious by your constant eye contact at his keys in his hand that you were about to ask for your own set of keys to the apartment, although I don't imagine why. With jobs like yours you probably leave the flat very quickly, leaving it in the hands of a cleaner, but not a very good one, the residue of bleach has remained on the backs of your shoes where you put your feet up on the table'' She pointed to the shorter mans shoes.

Olivia took a breath and chipped off the nail polish on her nails. Did she just make a fool of herself?

''Well I'm John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes.'' John said looking rather impressed.

''She is our landlord not the cleaner.'' Sherlock spoke to Olivia.

And just like that the most intriguing yet most annoying man she had ever met in her life turned and walking inside the shadowy hall of 221 Baker St.


	2. Chapter 2

**Olivia is not mentioned to much this time because i wanted to build the idea of a case! Dont worry She will feature in the next one WAY more! **

**Enjoy :) and PLEASE follow or review, anything to let me know you like it or totally hate it :/**

**xx**

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''Wait!'' John called out

Olivia briefly smiled at him after watching the mysterious Sherlock Holmes disappear down the hallway and up the stairs.

''Sorry about Sherlock. He isn't exactly a people person.'' John muttered

''No problem.'' Olivia laughed

John nodded curtly.

''Well I better check on him, see you later.'' He paused ''Uh, sorry what was your name?''

''It's Olivia Brighton.'' She answered.

''Good day Olivia Brighton.'' John said as he turned and left.

She stood there a few moments more, processing and evaluation the situation that had just occurred. She shook her head. Her mother always told her she thought about things too much. So with that, she carried on her way to work, now worrying about her lateness.

* * *

John found Sherlock seated at his chair, hands pressed together in front of his face and his eyes distant.

John sighed.

''Sherlock what is it?'' He asked.

Sherlock did not blink or move at all as he answered.

''Not a sociopath, defiantly not as she obtains too many social skills. Not a genius, why would a genius do journalism? Perhaps slightly gifted? '' He spoke to himself.

''What, is this Olivia?'' John asked.

Sherlock blinked once and turned his head to glance at a now sitting John Watson.

''You like her John.'' Sherlock said.

''What, no I-''

''Dilated pupils, flushed face, noticeable glances out the window watching her as she walks down the street.'' Sherlock stated.

John huffed.

''I just met her, Sherlock. I do not like her in such a way!''

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and shot up out of his seat suddenly as a soft knock rattled the door.

''it's a client.'' Sherlock said half smiling. ''Let's get to it.''

A middle aged woman was let into the apartment and she told her story to Sherlock and John from the small couch in the centre of the room.

''It's been two years now.'' The woman spoke.

''Since what?'' John asked.

''Since her eldest son disappeared.'' Sherlock stated.

The woman nodded, obviously struck with worry and grief.

''He worked late hours cleaning up a hair dressing salon.'' She sniffed.

''One night he didn't come home.'' She finished with a sob.

Sherlock moved to the window as she told the rest of her story.

''I received a package two days ago. It was from him I just know!'' She cries out.

''How?'' John asks.

''In the package was a small teddy bear. The exact one my brother gave him when he was born.'' She says. ''I thought he had lost it years before, but…'' She buried her face in her husband's shoulder.

Sherlock snapped his finger and turned to face John quickly.

''We will take the case.'' Sherlock said.

The woman smiled weakly up at him.

As the woman left John wondered what exactly had he already pieced together.


	3. Chapter 3

A short one sorry

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It only took that same afternoon to piece together the case. It turned out that the woman's son had run away and not in fact been kidnapped or killed.

A huge waste of time thought Sherlock.

He sat with his gun held firmly in his left hand. He shot multiple times at the wall, leaving indentations of the initials of his biggest rivalry, Jim Moriarty.

Two sets of feet sprinted up the stairs to the apartment. One set of footsteps were quiet obviously Johns. He listened out to the other set of footsteps.

Lights weight, size 6 shoe and by the quick, pattering it must have been a woman.

He continued shooting at the wall as John and the woman ran in through the door.

He smelt slight perfume, nothing to over the top, but enough to remind him of that girl who quizzed him yesterday after the press interview. How odd he thought, there is another smell mixed in there somewhere.

''Hello John. Olivia.'' He said curtly without giving them a glance.

''Sherlock! What the HELL?'' John shouted.

Sherlock stayed silent.

''Why are you shooting bullets in our walls?'' John continued, obviously annoyed.

''He is practising.'' Olivia said to John.

''Huh?'' John said tiredly.

Sherlock watched on as Olivia started talking.

''Well, Sherlock is right handed but he is shooting with his left hand. He must be practising using the other hand.'' She finished nervously.

Sherlock noted that she felt intimidated by him and also how observant she was although she was wrong on one count.

''Not practising, it's just mere boredom.'' Sherlock said dryly.

''Well great. My flatmate shoots walls when he is bored.'' John said weakly.

Olivia sniggered but as she looked up to the wall, Sherlock watched as her face fell instantly.

''Olivia?'' John asked.

''J.M. Those are the initials of-'' She silenced herself quickly.

Sherlock stood and walked to her in haste.

''Jim. Jim Moriarty.'' Olivia finished, not breaking eye contact with Sherlock.

''How did you come across him? Ah of course, that odd smell he picked up from before. The very vague yet distinctive smell of Jim Moriarty.

''Large pupils, you are a coffee drinker. The time frame of that smell and the size of your pupils tells me you were confronted by him while drinking coffee; the slight coffee stain at the edge of your blouse also shows you had a fall or you were shocked. What did he want?'' Sherlock asked quickly.

''You.'' Olivia said.

''You to disappear.''


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4, please read and review!**

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Olivia shakes her head.

''He was gone just like that.''

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

''Olivia, don't you lie to me-'' he pointed a finger at her a spoke harshly. ''-what did he SAY?''

Olivia started to answer just as Sherlock's phone vibrated to life. He gave Olivia one last cold stare and turned to his phone which sat next to johns open laptop.

He looked down at his phone and read the message.

*Sherlock, don't harass the poor girl. She is just caught up in your game. JM*

Sherlock twisted immediately to skull that sat on his mantel piece above the fire.

''Sherlock, what-'' John started.

Sherlock ignored him as he reached his finger through the eye whole in the skull and tugged out a black cable with a small microphone fasten at the end.

''Moriarty has been spying.'' Sherlock said bitterly.

Olivia stayed silent while John rubbed his hand along the side of his face. Sherlock walked across the room, straight across to Olivia and spoke in a deep voice that chilled her to the bone.

''You're involved now. No getting out.''

Olivia let her eyes widen. She felt immediately unsafe and swallowed nervously.

''Well Olivia, you can at least flat here with us if that makes you feel safer. It will be a rough couple of weeks.'' John spoke.

''Months John, not weeks.'' Sherlock retorted.

Olivia gave a shaky laugh and tucked a curly strand of brown hair behind her ear.

''No, no I can look after myself.''

''Perfect! Why are you still here then?'' Sherlock said with his tone dripping in sarcasm.

Olivia may have been suddenly thrown by this sudden disposition, but her temper rose in defence to his rudeness.

''Don't talk to me like that! I just found out my whole safety has been compromised for months and you dismiss it like rubbish. You have no right!'' Olivia flared.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her feisty behaviour.

''Olivia, I'm not apologising.'' Sherlock said.

Olivia gave a fake smile.

''Don't worry I don't accept anything from you!'' She said.

''For a reasonably gifted person Olivia, you are rather emotional.' Sherlock stated.

''That's because I am human.'' She replied.

''It will never aid you.''

''I guess I better learn to shut myself off then, like you.'' Olivia said, even toned.

''I suppose you do.'' Sherlock said.

He dropped the black cable at Olivia's feet and crushed it under his foot before leaving the living room.

John stood there, slightly surprised that she had stood up to Sherlock in such a way that only he had done.

''So will you stay?'' John asked.

Olivia smiled and looked at john as she slipped her hand into her coat pockets.

''Not even if you paid me.''

* * *

Olivia walked a short while across the street to her flat on Baker St. It was so dark that she had to fumble clumsily to fit the key in the key hole. As soon as she open the door, it was if her whole world was flipped around.

That aroma was unfamiliar, the phone was off the hook, and her chandelier was slightly swinging.

It was all so odd, and within seconds she had made the deduction that two males were in her study, second level, rampaging through its contents. The thought of calling the police ran through her mind, but I guess that is where she and Sherlock Holmes her incredibly similar. They both agreed the were to slow and dull minded to catch a crime before it was over.

She pattered up the stairs and turned the corner where her hallway started. Low mumbles and a soft yellow light could be seen at the end of the hallway in the study. She quietly lifted her brief case closer to her body and gently picked up a vase full of flowers that sat to her right.

She got to the end of the hallway, ready to pounce and adrenaline rushing through her. It was quite exciting she had to admit. With her foot she slammed the door open wide so it thudded on the back of the wall. The two men looked up, half surprised, half worried. They raised their guns to her head but, of course she had already deducted that the likely hood of that happening was close to 100% no matter what, so she would take her chances.

She brought her heavy briefcase up and over to the mans head and whacked it against his temple in full swing. He stumbled into the wall at crumpled in unconsciousness. The second man had already made his way closer to her, but this is where her vase came in. She tripped him up with a sweep of her foot and dropped the vase in his head sp it shattered into tiny pieces. She felt pricks on her ankles where the shards had pierced her skin.

She breathed heavily suddenly feeling quite exhausted.

She stumbled along to hallway, desperate to get the police or even Sherlock and Watson. But within 6 more steps she had fallen to the ground and fainted in the dull light.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5! :)**

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Sherlock walked to the window, his violin and bow clutched in his hand. It had begun to rain heavily that that street below became a blur. He started playing his instrument as his thoughts wandered off. He saw the light of Olivia's apartment shine from across the street. He squinted his eyes through the streaky window to get a glimpse of the silhouettes he thought he saw. Three? Did he just see three people? Or was that just Olivia's profile, disfigured by the streaked window. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Only when he opened them again, the figure(s) had disappeared.

Odd.

Curiosity got the better of him.

''John!'' He called as he threw on his black coat.

John walked in with to brewing cups of tea and gave him a questioning look.

''What?''

''Come, we are going to Olivia's.'' Sherlock replied as he left the apartment.

''Are you going to say sorry to her?'' John called from back inside the apartment.

Sherlock stopped suddenly and walked back into the room and gave a john a look with raised eyebrows.

''No, no of course not.'' John muttered.

John set down the mugs of tea and followed Sherlock, still not knowing what on Earth was going on.

As Sherlock crossed the deserted road, a clap of thunder broke out above them, making John walk faster to catch up with him. It look 20 seconds to get to the door of Olivia's apartment, which was swinging wide open and slamming shut again in the gusty wind. Sherlock looked up at the light shining from inside her apartment. Suddenly, the power cut out, leaving Sherlock and John to their own devices (senses) as they started exploring her house.

Sherlock found in increasingly hard to make deductions in the dark. He smelt the stale air and whistled lowly into the dark house to discover whether an echo would sound. From his experience the echo form his whistle would be at the top of the stairs. Once doing this he a cleverly mapped out where the stairs were without tripping into anything.

''Sherlock, why are we here?'' John whispered.

''I have the uncanny feeling Olivia came home to a surprise.'' Sherlock muttered.

The power flickered on and off, giving the whole experience a horror movie feel. Dr Watson felt the energy starting to pulse alive in his veins. John and Sherlock walked up the stairs. Sherlock blocked out the annoying flickering of the lights as they continued climbing the stairs. John reached the top first.

Sherlock watched Johns face turn from curiosity to fear. His complexion when white and he speed up down the hallway.

''Sherlock!'' He called.

Sherlock reached the top of the stairs (FINALLY) and stared down the hallway. He watched as a very edgy looking Dr Watson kneeled down next to a crumpled figure. In the flickering light, Sherlock could see her brown curls were sprawled around her face, painted with her own blood. Her ankles were decorated with pricks of red and the heel of her shoe had snapped in two.

''Its Olivia.'' John said nervously.

''She is fine.'' Sherlock said as he carried on down the hallway to the study.

''Sherlock she is unconscious!'' John looked up at him, clearly aggravated.

Sherlock grunted back as he stepped inside the study.

He looked down, unsurprisingly at the two men who lay unconscious on Olivia's floor. Impressive job, taking out two men by yourself, he thought to himself.

''Sherlock, Olivia's stable. I have called the-'' John stopped as he reached his side and saw the men lying on the floor.

''Did Olivia do that? Impressive.'' John muttered.

''My thoughts exactly, but then I thought realistically, A woman of that height a built would not be able to take out two very sturdy men.'' Sherlock said as we wondered around the room. ''She had assistance when dealing with these men.''

''From who? We are the only ones here.'' John stated, looking around the room.

Sherlock lifted one eyebrow.

''You think.'' Sherlock said.

From the darkness down the hallway, a figure clapped a unsteady, sarcastic clap. The person stepped over Olivia's body unsympathetically. The flickering light showed the evil smile and expressionless eyes of Jim Moriarty.

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**DONT WORRY chapter 6 will explain the presence of Moriarty! **

**PLEASE review? I have no idea what you guys think!**


	6. Chapter 6

''Moriarty'' John states in a monotone.

''Why beat up your own men?'' Sherlock asked straight away, sizing Jim up.

Moriarty smiles and looks back at Olivia.

''Why?'' Sherlock repeated.

''It's all about _you _Sherlock.'' Jim says, grinning widely.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

Jim stared to wander around the study room, laughing to himself.

''This must be a first. The great Sherlock Holmes; not knowing what's going on.'' Jim said in his thick Irish accent.

''What?'' John says, clueless.

''I will tell you, only because it does not make a difference to the fact that you will die in three weeks.'' Jim speaks.

''Please, carry on.'' Sherlock drawls sarcastically.

''There is a list. My hit list I call it. It has the dates, times and places of the people I will murder before you.''

''Why not kill me now?'' Sherlock asks calmly.

Jim chuckles.

''it's a game Sherlock. It's all about setting you up. I know how you think and how you will react to things, so at the end of these three weeks, I will have you exactly where I want you.'' Moriarty says his eyes black and empty.

''You didn't need to hurt Olivia.'' John says in anger.

''Oh, but Mr Watson I did. You see if I didn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation and you would have no idea what would be going on.'' Jim replies.

''Why would you want me to know?'' Sherlock asks, hands in his trench coat pockets.

''So I could watch you squirm! Torture you, so in the end you will be begging for me to kill you.'' Jim says.

Blue and red lights flash from the street below and Moriarty gives the men a salute.

''Well times up boys, see you soon.'' Moriarty says as he disappears into the shadows.

Sherlock watched as Moriarty until he was gone, a scowl plastered to his face.

Olivia begins to stir on the floor, John already rushing to her side.

Her eyes focus only on Sherlock, as she comes to consciousness and starts to sit up.

''It's okay, stay resting. You have had a-'' John is cut off.

''I am not one of your patients John.'' Olivia says brushing him off.

She stands, wobbling at first then fine. She looks over at Sherlock who still stands in the flickering light of the study.

His eyes immediately scan her, drawing in the information about her demeanour.

In all honesty Sherlock thought she looked rather stable for someone who had just try to fight off two grown men.

She gasps suddenly in pain and she holds her hands together in a tight grasp. She unlatches the grip and looks down at her hands.

On her left hand, covered in what she thinks is her own blood, are the initials J.M.

''I have been branded.'' She says coldly.

This struck Sherlock. She was not scared, she was not sensitive.

She was angry.


End file.
